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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27178447">Let love open the door</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/masterroadtripper/pseuds/masterroadtripper'>masterroadtripper</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Prisoners (2013)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Backstory, Childhood Sexual Abuse, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Post-Canon, consensual sexual content</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:34:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,208</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27178447</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/masterroadtripper/pseuds/masterroadtripper</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years after Detective David Loki solved the Dover and Birch case, he finally took his captain's advice.  Some of his advice, at least.  He didn't find himself a girl, get married, or have kids, but he did find a boyfriend.  </p><p>For two years they've been taking it extremely slow, but tonight, David decided he's ready to keep going.  As much as David may want it, he can't prevent a flashback and the truth about his childhood comes to light.  </p><p>"You know what?  I spent six years at the Huntington Boys Home, Father.  You know the Huntington Boys Home right?  Huh?  Hurting a fuck like you would be a real treat for me."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Detective Loki (Prisoners)/Original Male Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Note: this story deals with the topic of childhood sexual abuse.  If you think this topic is of a triggering nature for you, I recommend that you proceed with caution.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>David pressed his nose into the tight blond curls at the back of Craig's neck and inhaled his cologne. Letting his arms drape around his slightly taller boyfriend’s waist, David let himself smile. His boyfriend smelled like he’d showered just hours ago - had probably done it just before David had gotten off shift and they’d gone out to dinner. Knowing Craig as he did, it was quite likely.</p><p>It hadn’t been a particularly fancy date night, but it was at David’s favourite Chinese restaurant, and after a long, boring week at work with no cases of interest other than two old guys on the edge of town that got into it over a broken fence, it was exactly what he’d needed. Sitting across from the one person on the planet he would do anything for, eating noodles and greasy fried food, cracking open a fortune cookie and reading out loud while Craig listened intently, it reminded David that there were still good people left on this planet.</p><p>“You done?” David asked, watching as Craig reached out to turn off the water from the faucet he’d just been washing his hands under. The entire ride home, he’d been muttering about how sticky his fingers were, and the second David unlocked their apartment door, Craig had gone straight to the sink. The man never liked feeling dirty and it was endearing, in David’s opinion. Slightly hilarious to him too at times, considering his boyfriend worked at the local elementary school. Small kids weren’t known for their cleanliness skills.</p><p>“Yup,” Craig replied, turning in David’s arms until his rear end was resting against the sink counter and his front was just millimetres from touching David’s.</p><p>He appreciated that Craig never pushed. They kissed and cuddled, sure. They did that quite a bit actually, but from the very beginning, Craig had made it very clear that he wasn’t going to try to push David into anything. It’d been two years that they’d been together and they still hadn’t managed to get any further. While Craig said on a regular basis that it didn’t bother him, but tonight, David thought he was finally ready to try something a little more.</p><p>With Craig slightly trapped between himself and the countertop, David decided to take just one small step closer, pressing their fronts together very lightly and leaning up for a kiss. His blond-haired boyfriend accepted and soon, they fell into a familiar rhythm. A little give, a little take, predictable enough that his heartbeat stayed even. David hadn’t been all that good at it two years ago, but with Craig’s patient help, he was a quick study.</p><p>After a couple of minutes, David felt a little bolder and moved his hands from where they were still firmly tucked behind Craig’s back to his sides. Dragging them slowly up the taller man’s rib cage, bunching up his shirt and exposing taught skin along the way, David felt his own dress pants tightening a little.</p><p>Smiling against where their lips were still touching, David noted happily that his body hadn’t forgotten what it was supposed to do, under the right conditions. Not that he’d skipped his horny teen phase, not at all, and some mornings he’d wake up hard, but he also had learned quickly that a cold shower could take care of that problem much more efficiently than his hand could.</p><p>“Hey baby,” Craig said, pulling away from him a little and pressing his hands to the sides of David’s cheeks lightly, “what brought this on, huh?”</p><p>David swallowed, feeling the jitters starting to mount. He knew that there was no way that Craig would know that what he’d done was wrong. Because, quite simply, David had never told him. For all the communication that they’d managed to build up over the years, he’d never told Craig about what happened at Huntington. He’d tried to bury it down as deep as he could under the belief that if he didn’t think about it and didn’t talk about it, it would mean it never happened. No one would believe him anyway, so David saw no reason in bringing it up.</p><p>But that didn’t mean his body had forgotten. Shaking away a little from Craig’s hands on his cheeks, the blond man lowered them to his shoulders and then up and down his arms in an action that David found soothing. A reminder that Craig was Craig and that he didn’t want to hurt him. That if he said “stop,” Craig would, without a doubt. David knew he would.</p><p>“Just wanted to try something new,” David said, trying to lean forwards again for another kiss. He wanted to keep going, he wanted this, but his blinking tick gave him away and Craig held him back a little.</p><p>“You don’t have to,” Craig said, “I’m fine with just this, as long as you are.”</p><p>“I want more,” David replied, pressing his hips closer to Craig’s and feeling just how much their evening had affected his boyfriend.</p><p>“Okay,” Craig said, pressing a chaste kiss to David’s lips, “We go only as far as you’re comfortable with, yeah?”</p><p>“Yeah,” David agreed, capturing Craig’s lips again, but this time with what he could only hope was with more force and with intent to go farther.</p><p>David didn’t know what to do next, but he hoped that Craig took the hint that this was where his knowledge on the topic of romantically-inclined sexual encounters ended. Sure he understood the mechanics of how things were supposed to work, but between the time he was fifteen and now, he’d had no opportunity to put his knowledge into practice.</p><p>So he pressed closer, liking the feeling of their clothed erections bumping into each other through layers of denim and wool, and how Craig's tongue felt against his lips.</p><p>“C’mon darling, let's move to the bed, yeah?” Craig suggested, nudging David in that direction.</p><p>Letting Craig walk him backwards, their lips pulling apart from each other’s but the contact never parting, David could feel the swirl of fear starting up in the pit of his stomach again. Reminding himself that Craig wouldn’t do anything he didn’t want, David let himself fall gently backwards onto their shared bed.</p><p>With one leg on either side of David’s hips, Craig leaned over and started kissing him again. The contact, never pressuring and never pushing, let David pull himself out of his head yet again and enjoy what he was feeling.</p><p>Hands wandering from shoulders to his pecs, David leaned up to match Craig's kisses. The first three buttons of his light blue dress shirt were unbuttoned next and the cool air of their bedroom made David shiver a little, though most of his skin was still covered with his white undershirt. At the fifth button, Craig’s hands left David’s rib cage and at the seventh button, he felt his stomach tighten instinctively, just seconds away from launching an attack. But then the eighth button was undone and Craig’s hands returned to where David was starting to think was the safe zone. Rib cage and higher.</p><p>As two large thumbs dragged themselves over his nipples, hardened into buds under the tank top, David’s hips jolted up and crashed into Craig’s, both men feeling bolts of arousal racing up their spines. David realized that he liked that feeling, so he did it again. When Craig let out a soft moan against his lips, David felt Craig grind down for the first time. Lips trailing down his neck, pressing themselves into the tattoo he found there, fingers wandering across his chest.</p><p>After that, David was flying. Lost in the race to cross some imaginary line, they rutted against each other until David couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted more, but he didn’t know what he wanted. He didn’t have the words to express what he wanted.</p><p>“Craig,” he let himself moan, feeling the taller man pull away from him a little so he could look into his eyes, David managed to croak out, “More, I want more.”</p><p>“Of course darling,” Craig said, pressing two kisses to David’s face, one to his lips again and one to his right temple, just over the scar from where the bullet had grazed him two years ago.</p><p>Their rhythm started up again and suddenly, David was back in the clouds, his mind and his eyes unfocused with want. But then suddenly, there was a set of hands tugging at his belt buckle and David’s thoughts froze. Opening his eyes suddenly, all he could see were those old, lifeless eyes, wrinkled around the edges and yellowing in the corners, staring down into his with a look he now only saw in his nightmares.</p><p>
  <em>Hands on his belt, jostling apart the buckle and pulling the leather out of the loops. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Two fat and frail fingers popping open the button, tugging down the zipper roughly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nails scraping again soft skin, jeans bunching uncomfortably until they were roughly yanked free of legs too thin to fight back. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>One finger going where it certainly didn’t belong, cold and slick with something only identifiable with age and experience. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Small legs pushed roughly apart to give space for a much larger body, knees getting folded back in a way age no longer made possible. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Something thick and blunt forcing its way inside a small body, cries of pain and cries for help ignored. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Two hands, one still slightly slick, pressed into cheeks still layered with residual baby fat while a low voice whispered words that a nine-year-old should never hear. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>As it moved faster, the pain got worse, the shouts got louder. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Louder and louder until it was the only thing left and then suddenly everything stopped. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was still for a while until there was shuffling and the room was empty. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Curling into a small ball, not bothering to adjust clothes, hot trails of tears slipped down cheeks.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Craig had known for a while that David grew up in the foster care system. It had been pretty obvious to Craig that something had been up with David’s family after the fifth date and nothing had been mentioned. When he’d asked, David managed to mutter out, “was in the foster system,” in response and Craig hadn’t pushed it any further than that. The detective was jumpy enough as it was and for a couple of minutes after mentioning the foster system, his nervous tick had been extremely pronounced.</p><p>After their tenth date, Craig slept over at David’s apartment, entirely by accident, as they’d fallen asleep on his couch while watching a movie. Before they’d fallen asleep, Craig had leaned into David’s arm. It had caused the slightly smaller detective to tense up, but after a couple of seconds, his muscles gave and he leaned into the touch. Though, the biggest warning light for Craig was how he’d jumped when he’d lightly placed his hand on David’s thigh. When it had become obvious that David was not going to let that one slide, Craig had kept his hands to himself and had stopped paying attention to the movie in front of them.</p><p>Working as a teacher, Craig had been trained to keep an eye out for signs of abuse, and combined with what Craig had seen throughout the time he’d known David, combined with these two new facts, he knew something had happened in the foster system. Given that the man was largely okay with most forms of contact on his arms and shoulders, Craig swallowed hard at the realization that it was probably related to something below his belt.</p><p>The next morning, he’d woken to the smell of coffee brewing and the sound of sizzling bacon on the stove. Looking across the small apartment to the kitchen, Craig watched as David, already changed into a fresh shirt, was blissfully unaware of the fact that he had woken. So he’d conducted one last experiment and had snuck up behind David. Wrapping arms around his waist and pressing a kiss to his slicked-back hair, he braced for impact. When David jumped and spun around, spatula out and ready for a fight, Craig just barely avoided getting clocked in the face.</p><p>When they sat down to eat, he’d told David that he wasn’t ever going to push him into anything he wasn’t ready for. That he’d never make David do something he wasn’t ready for. It took almost six months before David kissed him on the lips for the first time and another six before the man had been comfortable with real, proper cuddling in just their pyjamas.</p><p>Then, for some reason, David seemed to have suddenly decided that tonight was a good time to try moving on. With no progression towards it, Craig felt like his boyfriend was trying to prove something. Prove that he was worthy of Craig’s affection and love. No matter how many times Craig said it, David seemed like he could understand why Craig would want him if sex wasn’t involved. Which was why Craig was worried that they were taking it too far.</p><p>David had insisted though, so Craig proceeded as carefully as he could. Hands on the face elicited his tick, so he knew not to do that again, but after that brief hiccup, Craig was actually impressed with how smoothly everything was going. Not only was David reciprocating, but he wasn’t clamming up, tensing, or punching him. If there was one thing Craig understood well, was that when his boyfriend’s mind took hold of his body, the first thing that would happen was physical violence followed by complete isolation.</p><p>He’d successfully managed to get every single shirt button undone when David had moaned, “Craig…, more, I want more.”</p><p>Craig could feel his mind racing through all the next steps he could take and what would be the least jarring to David. Where would be a good place to go from here. Which was also when he realized that they should have paused this in the bathroom and talked about it a little more than they had. When David bumped his hips up against Craig’s impatiently, he realized he was losing him and he had to make a decision soon.</p><p>Letting hands trail down to David’s belt buckle and giving a little tug to get it undone easier, that was when he’d snapped. Blue eyes hardened with a loud shout and David jack-knifed upright on their bed and scrambled backwards until he fell off the other side. Taking all the blankets with him, David tumbled to the floor, his voice just barely audible.</p><p>“Don’t touch me, don’t fucking touch me,” his voice growled from off the side of the bed.</p><p>It shocked Craig, but he recovered quickly, crawling across the bed to see that David had wedged himself half under it, blankets mostly covering him, tears streaking down his face, his terrified mantra not showing any signs of quieting down.</p><p>Looking towards the bedside table, Craig saw that David’s service piece was still safely tucked away into its leather holster and he breathed out a sigh of relief when he knew that David wasn’t in danger of seriously hurting either of them.</p><p>“I’m not going to touch you David,” Craig said, his voice low and steady like he’d been taught to do with a child in his class that suffered severe panic attacks.</p><p>“Don’t call me that,” his voice barely managed to wheeze out, form shaking violently from underneath the comforter before going back to, “Don’t touch me, don’t fucking touch me.”</p><p>“Loki,” Craig said, using the last name that he knew his boyfriend had chosen to take the day he’d turned eighteen. The name no one in the foster system could have possibly used with him, “Loki, I’m right here. Me. Craig. I’m not going to hurt you Loki.”</p><p>After almost an hour of coaxing, Craig managed to get David out from under their bed and out to the living room, sitting on the couch with a mug of coffee between his hands. Their comforter was still draped over his shoulders and his dress shirt was laying ripped on their bedroom floor, but he was breathing even again and his cheeks had regained their colour.</p><p>After stuffing a load of clothes into the washing machine, Craig came back out into their living room and sat on the chair ninety degrees off from where David was frozen on the couch, the steam from his mug of coffee curling up against his face.</p><p>“Loki,” Craig said, keeping his voice light, keeping his boyfriend’s Christian name out of the air, at least for the time being, “talk to me love, what got a hold of you?”</p><p>“Was nothing,” the stoic cop replied, but his eyes told Craig all he needed to know. David was holding back on him, the three rapid blinks giving him away.</p><p>“Whatever it was, it's not going to make me love you any less okay? I promise Loki,” Craig said.</p><p>“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” David growled.</p><p>“This is one I can,” Craig said, “but why don’t you let me be the judge of it, huh?”</p><p>“Because you’ll hate me,” David said, eyes averting down into his coffee, blinking twice in rapid succession.</p><p>“That's not true,” Craig said before changing his path a little, “I promise, no matter what you tell me, whatever happened to you, it won’t change things. I know about your criminal record Loki, there’s really nothing worse than that.”</p><p>“There is,” David grumbled.</p><p>“No there's not Loki. You were just a kid. Whatever happened to you, you were just a kid and you didn’t deserve any of it,” Craig tried again, hoping to finally break through whichever last wall was up in his boyfriend’s head, “Whatever happened to you in the system, whatever happened tonight, <em>none of it was your fault</em>.”</p><p>They sat in silence for almost two minutes, Craig barely daring to breathe as he watched his boyfriend’s mouth open and shut, as if he was trying to say words he couldn’t grasp. Words he’d never said before in his life. A detective, suddenly finding himself on the opposite side of the table. A victim.</p><p>“His name was Father Powell,” David finally managed to say, his eyes darting up from his coffee only briefly before they darted back down again, “He looked after the wing of Huntington Boys Home that I was placed at when I was nine.”</p><p>Craig knew part of that story. That after he’d turned nine, he’d been sent to a group home, but then, at some point just before he’d turned fifteen, David had run away, turning to a life of petty street crime and drugs instead.</p><p>“Every night, he…,” David trailed off, eyes blinking, vision seemingly struggling to focus on anything and Craig wondered if he’d pushed too far, too hard again when David swallowed hard and continued, “he would...he would do things.”</p><p>Craig nodded. It only confirmed his suspicions. David had been sexually abused. His boyfriend was a CSA and rape survivor and yet, he’d discounted himself so far that he wasn’t able to see himself that way yet.</p><p>As the first tear slipped down David’s cheek, Craig stood and moved to go sit next to him. The smaller man, thankfully, leaned into Craig’s arms instead of jolting away from them.</p><p>“Every night Craig,” David whispered, “it happened every night.” Running his hand through his boyfriend’s once gelled back hair, Craig couldn’t bear to say anything, or else he ran the risk of making David stop talking altogether. He’d got him on a roll and he didn’t want to give him a reason to stop.</p><p>“After six years I ran away. You know that part, but when I went to jail for the first time? I spent six months of my sentence high as a fucking kite down in medical, because after I freaked out during the strip search when they get you in there? They sedated me and did some checking?</p><p>I was weeks away from dying because of what that bastard did to me. I was dying from the inside out for six years and I didn’t know. The doctors at the jail fixed me up, I served the last six months like normal, got out, got my diploma, got onto the force.</p><p>But I’m not normal, Craig, I’m not, okay? I can’t...till I met you, I felt nothing and I thought...I thought maybe, tonight, I was ready to try more...but I can’t. I’m broken,” David finally finished, closing his eyes and pressing the palm of his hand not holding onto his coffee cup against eyes and rubbing at them.  </p><p>“You’re not broken David,” Craig said, pulling the detective tighter into his arms, rubbing his back through the thick comforter. Craig knew he was crying. David was crying too, nestled into his arms.</p><p>It was around three that morning that Craig placed the empty mug of coffee onto the table in front of them and gently coaxed his half-asleep boyfriend off the couch and back to their bed.</p><p>While David seemed to have fallen asleep again right away, his body probably absolutely exhausted, Craig couldn’t. He laid awake, rubbing soothing circles into soft skin and wondering how long it would take him to convince David to talk to a therapist.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chapters 3 and 4 coming soon</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Takes place roughly 6 months after chapter 2 ends</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Shifting his patrol car into park, David picked up the radio in the center counsel of the black Crown Victoria. It had been a pretty quiet shift and aside from parking his ancient patrol car alongside the highway and watching for a white Saturn Ion that was supposedly part of a robbery a few counties over while doing casework on his lap, he had been keeping an ear on the dispatch feed. Anything else would be better than paperwork in the unit he’d been assigned to four years ago when he'd made detective. The one that still had the stains of his own blood on the seat from when he’d gotten grazed by a bullet at his temple.</p><p>Holding the black receiver up to his chin and clearing his throat before clicking the button on the side, David spoke as evenly as he could, saying, “Dispatch, this is 1340, signing off for the night, my early 10-42 was cleared by O’Malley. Have a good night folks.”</p><p>“1340 this is dispatch,” the dispatch officer’s voice said, “10-42 confirmed, have a good night detective.”</p><p>Placing the radio back into its holder, David stared out the driver's side window blankly. It reminded him of where he had been sitting the day when he’d met Craig for the first time. Just days after the Dover/Birch case had wrapped, he’d been asked by Captain O’Malley to go down to the girls’ school and brief the teachers. As the lead detective, he figured he owed that much to the case to see it through to completion, and if the end of the road was briefing the teachers, then that was the end of the road.</p><p>That afternoon, when he’d finished all his outstanding paperwork for the same case, so he’d arrived at the school and just sat there, watching a group of kids play soccer in the field with a gym teacher, remembering his own elementary school days. There weren’t many things he liked remembering about that time of his life on a regular basis, but he did remember the games of camouflage he and his classmates would beg their gym teacher to let them play. David remembered those the most fondly, admittedly being rather good at the game. As a competitive kid, he’d always liked playing the games he would win.</p><p>Eventually, he’d had to go inside and talk to the teachers. Swallowing hard, he’d walked through those doors before taking one quick glance at his reflection in a trophy case to make sure the collar of his button-up shirt was covering the tattoo on his neck, his black winter scarf covering what the white fabric couldn’t. He’d walked into the office, its colourless walls plastered with posters of random sayings that were all too familiar of the times David had sat in a very similar office, holding a bag of ice to his face or knuckles, waiting to get dressed down by a principal.</p><p>After he’d introduced himself to the receptionist, the lady with grey hair and thick bottle-cap glasses had led him to the staff room where about a half dozen teachers were standing around, talking quietly. Then the receptionist had left and he was alone, faced with a group of teachers who were expecting words of wisdom on two young girls who had been kidnapped and tortured for almost two weeks.</p><p>It was then, David remembered, that he’d realized that they’d expected more than he could tell them. That they’d want to know how to best help the girls recover from an experience they’d never forget. An experience that would haunt them their whole lives. That they’d see in their nightmares for years. David knew something about that, but it wasn’t anything he was planning on telling a group of people he didn’t know.</p><p>Then the door had opened and one last teacher walked in. David was certain he’d been the one playing soccer with the kids out in the field, his short curly blond hair soaked with sweat even though it was the middle of December. He’d slid into the back of the staff room silently and when he leaned back against the corkboard behind him, David felt something spike from the center of his chest straight into his stomach.</p><p>It was something he hadn’t felt in a long time.</p><p>The last time he could remember feeling anything similar was back when he was in jail and there was a dark brown haired guard who patrolled his wing of the jail on weekends. At the time, he had no idea what the feeling had meant because his only connections to sex and anything remotely into the realm of arousal had been under horrible conditions. It wasn’t the same feeling and David hadn’t understood what it meant.</p><p>But looking at the tall, blond gym teacher, David realized the feeling meant that he liked how he looked.</p><p>Romantically.</p><p>Perhaps sexually.</p><p>Though that was still somewhere he hadn’t been comfortable going in his own brain quite yet. David liked to pride himself on his professionalism and as he started talking to the teachers, he kept his eyes away from the man with the curly blond hair.</p><p>Then he’d gone back to the station to sign out his stuff for a night shift. Bullet-proof vest on, duffle bag of roadside assistance equipment in his trunk, David had sat in his patrol car on the side of the highway with a young rookie for the whole night, watching cars and thinking. At that point, he hadn’t even felt bad about not talking to the rookie, his reputation likely proceeding him anyway.</p><p>When he’d gotten back to his desolate apartment the next morning and had tried to sleep, he realized he hadn’t gotten anything cleared up all night. It made no sense to him and it wasn’t necessarily the fact that he’d felt what he’d felt towards another man.</p><p>That wasn’t it.</p><p>He’d heard stories in jail about what happened to gay guys, but David figured he had survived this far in life against all odds. What else was throwing just one more into the mix? It wasn’t like he couldn’t be a detective and be gay, because, to David, that logic made no sense. Besides, he didn’t even know for sure if he was gay. Maybe it was just this one guy.</p><p>Or two guys, if he remembered correctly. He wasn’t even sure if he was remembering how he felt towards the jail guard. It had been a long time ago and he’d been high on pain medication for the majority of it.</p><p>Now, two years later, David realized that it didn’t matter either way. He didn’t feel like he had to put that label on what he and Craig had together. They loved each other and that was good enough for him.</p><p>Sitting in front of the school once again, staring towards the brick face of the elementary school gym where he figured Craig was, the irrational part of his brain screamed that there was no reason for him to be loved. That he was broken irreparably by his childhood and that he didn’t deserve love.</p><p>Then David remembered that he had proof. He had proof that he was wanted. There was a recently added engagement ring on his left hand, right beside the ring on his pinky that was proof. The smell of Craig’s shampoo on his clothes, the smiling picture of the two of them that was the background of his phone.</p><p>Craig knew what had happened. He knew almost all of it, and yet, he was still there. Right by his side, through the past six months of therapy. By his side when he’d wake up in the middle of a flashback and he’d still be there when David had to sleep on the couch for a night. Craig hadn’t left, and now he’d agreed to meet with Dr. Sherman.</p><p>Watching as his fiance walked out the door of the gym block, smiling when he recognized David’s car and altering course slightly towards it, David remembered what Dr. Sherman had told him. He was okay. Everything would be okay. He had no proof that anything was going to go wrong, and therefore, he had no reason to be anxious until he had proof.</p><p>“Hey you,” Craig said as he pulled open the passenger door and sank down into the seat.</p><p>Throwing his bag at his feet, Craig leaned back with a smile before saying, “well detective, you ready to do this?”</p><p>“Ready as I’ll ever be,” David muttered, turning the ignition on his car and throwing it back into drive.</p><p>“You know you don’t have to, you know?” Craig said, “we can just like, bail now and go get an order of spring rolls or something.”</p><p>“I have to,” David replied, turning out of the school parking lot and onto the highway, “I can do it.”</p><p>“I know you can darling,” Craig said, leaning across the center counsel, being careful not to bump any of the electronics and accidentally turn anything on.</p><p>Not that it would be the first time, but the last thing David wanted was for his lights or siren to go on while they were in the middle of the highway. When Craig pressed a kiss into the hollow of David’s cheek, which was lightly dusted with stubble, David felt the knot that was tied in the center of his chest loosen a little as he steered them closer to Dr. Sherman’s office.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve come so far in the past few months,” Dr. Sherman said, her voice soft and level, “Just remember, it's about communication. Knowing what Craig is going to do when. Right?”</p><p>“Yes ma’am,” David replied, not looking up from his hands, anxiously twisting his ring around his pinky finger and trying not to look at the tattoos that he could see creeping out from under the cuffs of his dress shirt.</p><p>Absently, David considered, not for the first time, inquiring if they could be removed. He seemed to remember one of the guys down at the station talking about how he’d had the tattoo matching his ex-wife’s removed.</p><p>Craig knocked his knee into David’s gently, a move that he knew meant that the taller gym teacher was checking to make sure he was still doing okay. When David pushed back a little, making sure his fiance knew his brain was still running on all cylinders, Craig pulled his leg back towards his own body, making the couch cushion he was sitting on shift a little.</p><p>It was just that David didn’t think he had been more uncomfortable in his life. Here he was, a thirty-two-year-old detective who had solved every single case that’d crossed his desk, talking with an elderly woman, who knew more about his life than even Craig did, about what happened to him as a teen. The elderly woman, who David inexplicably had started to trust over the six months, who had been incredibly professional during all their discussions, except for one a couple of months ago when her stoic facade had cracked, and she’d shed a couple of tears. David didn’t blame or fault her for that. She was only human.</p><p>Though he did have to admit, he was feeling better. Not fixed and not cured, but better. Dr. Sherman had told him when they’d first started talking that she knew it would be impossible to erase his past - because that was not scientifically possible - but she could help him come to terms with it in his own time. It hadn’t happened overnight, but compared to where he had been six months ago, having a panic attack off the side of his and Craig’s bed, objectively, he was doing much better.</p><p>The process had taken a long time and it had taken a toll on him. It had taken two months before he and Craig had managed to get past just holding each other in their pyjamas again. Sometimes, he couldn’t even do that and would go to sleep in his day-clothes. There were even days when he couldn’t fathom sleeping, his past seeming too close and fresh, and he’d stay up all night at the kitchen table with his service piece next to him, doing casework.</p><p>On the other side of the proverbial coin though, he’d been waking up in Craig’s arms lately, with either his cheek pressed to Craig’s chest or his back to Craig’s front. It had been something that had surprised him at first, but then he realized he actually really liked being held when he was sleepy and just enjoying the comfort of existing in Craig’s relative proximity.</p><p>Of course, he wasn’t talking with Dr. Sherman just to solve his problems with intimacy, because there were other problems at the route of his concerns and general inability to act on his desires. But it was all linked. By understanding the routes of one problem, others could be solved at the same time.</p><p>“Please phone me tomorrow morning if you need,” Dr. Sherman said, “Does that sound like a good plan David?”</p><p>“Yes ma’am,” David replied, looking up from his hands and giving her one of his rare smiles, and while it was accompanied by two frantic blinks, he did actually feel alright, if not slightly nervous.</p><p>“And Craig, it was lovely to finally meet you,” she added, all three of them starting to stand to leave the office, “David speaks highly of you, it was good to put a face to a name.”</p><p>“Likewise doctor,” Craig said, shaking her hand as they headed into the lobby and back towards David’s car in the parking lot.</p><p>Seated in the black Crown Victoria, engine running harshly and the radio crackling with transmissions in the background, David leaned into the space of the passenger seat to press a kiss to Craig’s temple. The man turned a little and he pressed his lips to Craig’s.</p><p>“Love you,” Craig whispered, barely audible over the radio.</p><p>“Love you too,” David replied, “thanks for coming.”</p><p>“Anything for my wonderful detective,” Craig said, a smile spreading across his face as David leaned back into his own seat and put his car into drive.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chapter 4 coming soon (hopefully a little sooner than the gap between Chapter 2 and 3).  </p><p>I hope this chapter was worth the wait.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Craig didn’t want to rush David or pressure him into anything and even though they’d discussed a plan of action with Dr. Sherman, that didn’t mean that anything had to happen. He had loved David for years, waiting another couple of days or weeks until he was ready was no big deal.</p><p>It wasn’t that having waited was a hardship. Sure he’d had to jerk off in the shower a couple of mornings a week, but with thoughts of David in his mind, it wasn’t an impossible task. The reward of slowly earning the trust of a truly shattered heart and soul was even better. When he knew that David was feeling the same things when they laid together in bed, when the detective pressed their lips together without any lingering hesitations, Craig knew that he’d found a keeper.</p><p>He loved David. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for the dark-haired detective with eyes as bright as the sky after a snowfall in the winter. It was a terrible cliche, but Craig loved everything about him.</p><p>When they returned to their apartment, Craig let David do his own thing, the detective making his way into the kitchen while Craig turned towards the bedroom to change out of his dirty school clothes. He hated the feeling of just general dirtiness that always came from not only being at school with his students but also at any doctor's office. He really didn’t know how David did it, being around the completely unwashed most days.</p><p>Stripping out of his athletic pants that had mud splashed up onto the cuffs and peeling off his socks, Craig found a pair of soft sleep pants. He wasn’t particularly ready for bed, but that wasn’t important to him at the moment. They were clean and they were comfortable and that was good enough. Pulling off his Conyers Elementary School shirt, Craig started rooting through his collection of shirts, trying to find one that he wanted to wear. Electing against one of his own, Craig reached for one of David’s old grey shirts from the Academy and slipped it over his head. It fit a little loose in the shoulders but Craig loved how it smelled like David’s aftershave and deodorant.</p><p>Turning around, Craig nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw that David was standing in the door frame, a smile on his face. It never failed to amaze him how the detective could be so awkward and uncoordinated one moment, silent and stealthy the next. The man who could move around their apartment in the middle of the night without making a sound, yet could knock over entire shelves in the broad daylight.</p><p>“Hey you,” David said, the smile not dropping from his features. Leaning one shoulder into the doorframe and crossing his arms, Craig watched the muscles in David’s arms flex against the material of his light blue dress shirt and found himself swallowing hard.</p><p>“Hey,” Craig replied, gracing David with a smile of his own.</p><p>“Nice shirt,” David said softly, the fingers of his right arm twitching a little, as if he wanted to reach out and touch Craig but couldn’t make himself do it. Looking down at his toes, bravado falling away slightly, David whispered, “but you’d look better without it.”</p><p>“Was that a pick-up line I just heard Detective Loki?” Craig said, huffing out a laugh as David looked back up at him, even though he blinked his eyes nervously, twice.</p><p>“Was it a good one?” David asked, his voice getting slightly raspier.</p><p>“Good enough for me,” Craig said, taking a step forward and reaching for David’s hand, “You know I love you, right?”</p><p>“Yeah,” David replied, allowing his right hand to disentangle itself from where he’d tucked it against his body. Gently hooking his fingers into Craig’s, he smiled at David and pressed their lips together.</p><p>“You okay?” Craig asked when they pulled apart a little.</p><p>“Yeah,” David repeated before gently taking a step backwards and uncrossing his arms.</p><p>“David,” Craig said, pressing his fingers under David’s chin, making the detective look at him properly. They were going to talk this through this time. Unlike last time, where everything went to absolute shit because Craig had let his dick control his brian, he wanted this to be perfect. The first time that David would properly experience something like this. For a teenager, it was important. To his fiance, this would be monumental. The fact that he was comfortable letting Craig touch him as <em>that man</em> had all those years ago, was even more important.</p><p>“Are we going to try this?” Craig asked as he gently pushed David to sit on the edge of their bed. Going down onto a knee so he’d be just below eye level - not asserting dominance or taking advantage of his own height in any way - he placed the palms of his hands on David’s knees and looked into his eyes.</p><p>“I want to,” David admitted, “but...but I don’t think we can...we can go all the way tonight?”</p><p>“That's alright,” Craig assured him, gently pressing his thumbs into the muscles of David’s knees, “how about this, no sex tonight, okay? We can save that for another time.”</p><p>“What do you mean?” David whispered, looking down at Craig, but moving his hands from where they’d been awkwardly laying down by his thighs to gently rest on top of Craig’s. With his palms down, he was no longer hiding the tattoos on his fingers that he usually tried to prevent from showing and Craig knew that in and of itself was an unspoken message. David wasn’t trying to hide, he was just slightly nervous.</p><p>“There are other things to do in the bedroom aside from actual sex,” Craig reminded him, “and without taking our pants off either. We don’t have to go that far tonight, but let's figure it out now, okay?”</p><p>“M’kay,” David agreed, before swallowing hard and saying, “boxers stay on for tonight.”</p><p>“Anything else?” Craig whispered, using David’s knees to gently push himself to stand and then moving to sit on the bed beside him before adding, “I just want this to go well, for the both of us, okay? And if you don’t want to keep going, I think there’s a new episode of <em>Man vs. Wild</em> on tonight.”</p><p>“I’m okay,” David said, voice steady and strong. Turning his head to press a kiss to Craig’s temple, he said, “I want to try.”</p><p>Craig smiled, gently returning the kiss before agreeing, “boxers stay on. Anything else?”</p><p>“I’ll take my own pants off,” David added and to Craig, it sounded like he was picking up steam. Finding a foothold that he could run with, out of confidence and not fear.</p><p>“Deal,” Craig said, “shirts?”</p><p>“They can come off, fine with me,” David said, “you?”</p><p>“Fine with me,” Craig replied before asking, “can I touch you? Like, below the belt?”</p><p>“Yeah, just...warn me first, okay?” David asked.</p><p>“Of course,” Craig replied, “just like we talked about with Dr. Sherman?”</p><p>“Just like we talked about,” David agreed, rewarding Craig with a rare smile that showed his teeth before leaning in and pressing their lips together for a kiss.</p><p>Even though Craig could feel his dick twitching to life in his sweatpants, he let David lead the way, not going any faster than strictly needed. This had to work out, for David’s sake, to prove that he wasn’t broken. To prove that <em>that man</em> hadn’t irreparably ruined David’s life. That when two people loved and trusted each other, healing could happen.</p><p>He knew they were on the right track when David let Craig push him back gently and slowly until the two of them were resting back against the pillows, both on their sides, David’s blue eyes wide open and not twitching with fear or panic. One large, callused hand ran up Craig’s side, catching on the shirt he wore just slightly before coming to grip gently on Craig’s upper arm, pulling them closer together.</p><p>“Can I?” Craig asked, snaking a hand up between them to rest at the tightly buttoned-up collar of David’s dress shirt.</p><p>“Yeah,” David replied, and while Craig watched him blink three times in rapid succession, he wasn’t looking away or freezing up, so Craig decided to go slowly, popping only the top two buttons to expose the tattoo on the side of David’s neck and the top of his white undershirt. Leaning forwards and pressing a kiss to the tattoo that David tried so hard to hide at any given time he felt the detective shiver under him.</p><p>“All okay?” Craig asked, making sure it was a good shiver and not a bad shiver.</p><p>“Mhmm,” David said, “you can keep going...if you want.”</p><p>With a smile and another gentle kiss, Craig kept going until the buttons disappeared into the belted waistband of his pants. Tugging gently to release the fabric, keeping to his promise of not dealing with David’s pants himself, Craig slid the fabric down his arms. Abruptly sitting up, David shook his arms free before motioning towards his holster that he still hadn’t removed since coming home.</p><p>Dumping the holster into its designated drawer, not without replacing his service piece back into it and double-checking that the safety was on, David crossed his arms behind his head and tugged his sweaty undershirt over his head. Dumping it off the side of the bed, he flopped back down and pressed their lips together again.</p><p>“I like this,” he whispered, voice gravelly but soft, managing to hold Craig’s gaze the entire time, though his cheek gradually flushed with a blush.</p><p>“Me too,” Craig replied, giving him a kiss while snaking his hand further south against David’s tight abs and stomach. As David’s hands fisted into the bottom of his grey shirt, Craig asked, “Want me to take it off?”</p><p>“Mhmm,” David said, but moaned in what sounded like the frustration when Craig took his hand off his stomach. He was just glad that the touch was being enjoyed and not hated.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The final chapter is being split in two due to its length and the fact I wanted to write from David's perspective one more time.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>David watched with wide eyes as Craig tugged the Philadelphia Police Academy shirt over his head and threw it basketball style in the direction that he’d sent the blue button-up and his undershirt. Craig not wearing his shirt wasn’t anything David hadn’t seen before, but suddenly, in this context, it was like the best and wildest combination of all those times from before put together.</p><p>“C’mere,” Craig muttered gently, leaning forwards for a kiss, the light stubble tickling David’s chin.</p><p>They stayed like that for a little longer before David felt his hands getting curious, inching down until he felt the rippling muscles of Craig’s ribcage. His chest was barely moving though, and It felt like he was holding his breath.</p><p>“You’re gonna pass out,” David teased with a huff, pressing another kiss to Craig’s lips.</p><p>Craig finally took a breath, making his chest move rapidly and slightly unexpectedly. His face flooded with colour and David felt himself jerking his hand away from where it had been rested as if it had been burnt. He knew it was irrational that he’d startled. There was no reason at all to be spooked by Craig, but he couldn’t help it. David tried to reason with his own mind, but to a certain extent, he knew it would be pointless. The memories and fears were just too ingrained, but he tried to remember what he’d talked to Dr. Sherman about and took a couple of deep breaths through his nose.</p><p>“M’sorry,” David muttered, shakily placing his hand back onto Craig’s ribs, feeling his own cheeks jerking with the force of four rapid blinks. Mentally, he cursed his tic because it made everyone around him aware of the fact that he was uncomfortable. That it made everyone around him acutely aware of the fact that he might not know all the answers. It messed up interrogations at work and now, it was probably going to mess this up too.</p><p>“Hey,” Craig said, reaching out and smoothing David’s lightly curling hair away from his face, “don’t apologize, it's alright. I promise.”</p><p>David found himself humming as he kissed Craig again, shifting his hips ever so slightly closer, the heat between them getting that much more intense. After so many years of not doing exactly this, and, in most cases, going so far as to favour cold showers over his own hands, he felt like he was inches away from exploding. Like one touch would cause bolts of lightning to shoot down his spine and it’d all be over.</p><p>“C’mere,” Craig said, rolling onto his back, “you get to lead.”</p><p>With a soft snort, David followed, throwing one leg over Craig’s hips, resting his own rear against the crease that was made with Craig’s legs propped up into a triangle against the covers. It was actually surprisingly comfortable, the solid weight of Craig under him and behind him, but not on top of him, the heat from his thighs transferring to David’s bum and back.</p><p>“I like this,” David found himself whispering, with just an ever so slight twitch to his eyes. Communicating, just like he was supposed to.</p><p>“I’m glad,” Craig replied as they shared another kiss, the new angle grinding their cocks together, rock hard with anticipation. Vaguely mentioning towards David’s belt without actually touching it, Craig asked, “pants?”</p><p>“Yeah,” David agreed, slightly distracted by his newfound ability to lead the series of events unfolding and grinding down into Craig a couple more times as the other man’s hands tracing lines into the planes of muscle on his back. It drew goosebumps on his skin, the feelings it was creating in his gut something that he’d never really felt before in his life.</p><p>“David?” Craig asked, “doing okay love?”</p><p>“Yeah,” David replied before managing to grunt out, “so much better than okay.”</p><p>“Wanna keep going?” Craig asked.</p><p>“Mhmm,” David agreed, pushing up against the bed so he was upright and not leaning over Craig’s body. Dragging his hands down his boyfriend’s chest to rest against the drawstring of his comfy pants, David asked, “can I?”</p><p>“Yes,” Craig said, eyes watching as David tugged at the piece of string, tucking his fingers under the elastic band and pulling upwards, loosening the material just enough that, had Craig been standing, they likely would have fallen straight to the floor.</p><p>“Kick a little,” David suggested, raising up off Craig’s hips so that he could wiggle around enough to get the material off. It worked, and, as David suggested, Craig kicked his pants off the edge of the bed. His boxers were tented and as David leaned back over to kiss Craig, the material dragged against his stomach and the tent in his own pants.</p><p>“You’re beautiful, you know that?” David said, running his thumb over Craig’s cheekbone, and pressing a kiss to his lips, suddenly feeling sentimental that, all this time, Craig had decided to wait for him. That he’d seen past David’s history and his hang-ups and had allowed for this day to even happen in the first place. The day that he’d finally found someone that he trusted enough to let into his own mind and heart again.</p><p>As David unlatched his own belt then pants, he shoved them off, suspending himself over Craig with his forearms just enough that he didn’t end up kicking or kneeing him somewhere it would hurt. When he pressed back down into Craig, he closed his eyes and breathed through the sudden shooting wave of panic. That the last time he’d felt another person’s cock against his own, had been all those years ago at Huntington. Once the wave passed, David opened his eyes to see Craig staring back at him with a smile through a slightly concerned look.</p><p>“I’m okay,” David assured him before Craig could even ask. Craig dragged his hand down the center of David’s chest, stilling once he reached the band of David’s underwear.</p><p>“I won’t go under the fabric,” Craig assured him, “but can I try something?”</p><p>David nodded, his breathing hitching a little with anticipation.</p><p>“David? You gotta tell me, honey, remember?” Craig said.</p><p>Clearing his throat, David said, “Yes. Please.”</p><p>Pressing his hand flat against the tented fabric of David’s underwear with just the right amount of pressure, David found himself curling forwards against Craig, the feeling just on the right side of too much. It felt immature and perhaps a little childish, rubbing against his fiance’s hand, their cotton-covered erections dampening the fabric of both of their underwear, but for the moment, David found it very hard to care.</p><p>Eventually, once they seemed to have picked up on a rhythm, Craig pulled his hand away and David found that there was no panic in his mind. In fact, that was the furthest thing away from what he was thinking about and as his motions grew more and more frantic, just doing what his body knew to do and not what it’d learned, he tried to press more sloppy kisses to Craig’s face. Less than half of them landed where he’d wanted them to go, but as his urgency grew, David hoped that the meaning wasn’t lost.</p><p>Craig rested his hands on David's and shifted a little, planting his feet more firmly against the bedsheets so he had better leverage. Going along with it, thinking he knew what Craig was going to do, David let himself rest against Craig’s front as the other man started rotating his hips and holding David’s still.</p><p>It felt better than David could have ever imagined or remembered. Nothing hurt, nothing made him feel any horrible or nagging sense of dread, and nothing made him feel like he needed to run. It just felt good. Letting himself ride the waves, the white line of release crept up faster and faster and then it was over.</p><p>Coming in his own underwear like a teenager, David let himself collapse down onto Craig’s chest, knowing that he wouldn’t crush the other man, but also knowing that Craig wouldn’t do anything that they hadn’t agreed to. He trusted Craig and as he let himself feel the aftershocks of his mind-blowing and spine-crushing orgasm, he felt a burst of warmth against his stomach.</p><p>Letting himself roll off to the side a little so Craig could breathe easier, David felt the licks of anxiety creeping into his mind but he reminded himself that everything was fine. Turning his head to look at Craig, David saw that he was smiling. Everything was fine.</p><p>“Was that good?” Craig asked sleepily, dragging a single finger up the side of David’s body, all the way from his hips to his collarbone where he let his hand rest with an even clearer smile on his face.</p><p>“So much better than good,” David replied as Craig rolled onto his side, their positions almost a mirror image of how they were before.</p><p>“Gonna go get some sleep pants on?” Craig suggested, motioning vaguely downwards towards their underwear which would start getting annoyingly itchy soon.</p><p>“Shower?” David suggested with a grin.</p><p>“You wanna go first?” Craig asked, and while David appreciated the offer, since they tended not to shower at the same time, it wasn’t what he wanted right that moment.</p><p>“I was thinking...you could come too?” David said.</p><p>“I’d love to,” Craig said before leaning forwards and kissing him again, “I’m proud of you, you know that?”</p><p>David could feel his face heating.</p><p>“It's true,” Craig said, “I am. I love you, regardless of what we do in our bed, you know that, but still, I’m proud.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This was a nightmare of a chapter to write for a number of reasons, but mostly due to my inexperience in writing smut.  </p><p>I hope everyone is staying safe out there and thank you for reading this story!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My take on what happened to Loki before he joined the force, based on this line from the movie:</p><p>"You know what?  I spent six years at the Huntington Boys Home, Father.  You know the Huntington Boys Home right?  Huh?  Hurting a fuck like you would be a real treat for me."</p><p> </p><p>Note: work title based on the song, "Let My Love Open The Door," by Peter Townshend.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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